


Lemonade

by floatawaysomedays



Series: Before My Morning Coffee [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 00:22:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatawaysomedays/pseuds/floatawaysomedays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of S9 timestamps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lemonade

The first time Cas kisses Dean,  they’re standing in the fresh produce section of the local grocery store.

Cas is deliberating, arms crossed over his chest, next to a display of dark blueberries, and grass green apples. Cas asks what Dean prefers, what he would like. Dean shrugs, hands in his pockets, carefree. 

"Whatever you want, Cas."

And then his mouth is pressed against Cas’s. The kiss itself is closed mouthed, and surprisingly chaste. Cas has one hand curled in Dean’s coat, and his eyes are shut. It’s warm, and soft. Dean’s hand absently grips the forearm wrapped around his waist, the other settles on Cas’s jaw, holds him in place  Their noses bump and brush, and Dean adjusts the angle until it’s just right. Cas finishes it just as quickly as it began. He rubs his nose against Dean’s cheek, sweetly, and pulls back. Draws away.

Dean is more than a little shell-shocked when it’s over. When the heat recedes and Cas is turning to put something in the cart, nonchalant. 

Maybe he had thought about the fact that they would end up here, somewhere just past friends, and not quite more. Maybe a part of him held it’s breath, always waited for it. 

But he didn’t think it would happen  _here_  of all places. Sam standing nearby with a stupid  _I told you so_  grin on his face,  the older lady combing through the onions drops the bag she was holding. Bright red strawberries spill over and across the floor.

Cas gives this happy little sigh when he turns back around and Dean’s still standing in the same place. 

Dean cocks an eyebrow at him, questioning. Cas has settled a bag of sunny lemons in the cart. Cas shrugs casually, and there’s this gorgeous, incredibly cocky,  _you said whatever I wanted_ , smirk on his face. He’s pleased with himself, for shocking Dean into silence. 

There’s a joke somewhere about life and lemons. It’s in their cart. It’s written, loudly, on their faces and in shaky hands.

About lemonade.

Dean doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t crack a joke about the bitterness. Dean doesn’t mock them, he sees them for what they really are. 

He remembers Lucifer snapping his fingers. He remembers Cas saying ‘ _Or what.You’re just a man’_ , and his heart finally breaking, because he  _wasn’t_. He remembers fire and light and trying to believe that angels don’t need to breathe. He remembers Purgatory, the filth and the fight. He remembers praying. He remembers losing Cas, _again_ , and he thinks about lemons. About how sweet that kiss  was. 

How it felt like he was breathing for the first time since sparks flew in an abandoned barn.

"Do you even know how to make lemonade?" There’s a world’s worth of innuendo in it, and Sam is snickering when he drops his lettuce into the bottom of the cart. Dean glares at him halfheartedly. 

"No." Cas says easily. "But neither do you."

And if Cas holds his hand during the rest of their trip, Dean doesn’t mind so much. 


End file.
